


it can never be enough

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Desk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Future Fic, Older Man/Younger Woman, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:18:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1697921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye wears her red dress. Coulson has a surprising reaction to it.</p>
<p>(Just shameless, no-redeeming-value-whatsoever quick smut)</p>
            </blockquote>





	it can never be enough

The Records Room (the official unofficial name for the big stuffy room full of carboard boxes full of paperwork) is really on the far side of the building, but that makes sense, and while she walks there Skye wonders if she is doing the right thing coming to check up on him, figuring that if Coulson has buried himself in work all day and in this particular place he means to be left alone.

But.

She left the matter rest the first day. And the second. A third one is more than her limited patience can deal with.

And she could always say she was wandering around the base, which she still does. And also she really needs him to stop procrastinating and find that file and start giving proper orders. Taking a breather is okay but the team is already doing fine on the oxygen suppy front and they are starting to get fidgety with all these preparations and false starts. May's and Trip's training sessions together seem already serious enough to hurt (so far Trip bears the bruises like badges). There's a slippery slope from fidgety to restless. 

That's not even Skye's main worry today.

Lately Coulson's been working too much on his own. She gets it, she really does, rebuilding this is a big thing, all the boring minute details of starting from scratch, and he has to put in the hours. But she doesn't like that he decides to stay away from the team for so long. Doing menial stuff, ages in the storage room or in here, cross-referencing, cataloguing, searching.

He hides. She knows this. He's good at it, too. Takes one to know one, she knows this too.

"Didn't hear you come in," he tells her when she appears, not bothering to turn around and look at her.

"That's fine."

She looks at his back while he keeps on working, flipping pages of old documents. He looks small and tired, sleeves rolled up haphazardly and shirt looking like it needs ironing which in Coulson is an obvious cry for help whether he knows it or not.

"You missed lunch," she tells him. "By a couple of hours, actually."

"Sorry, I got caught up in this."

"That's okay," she says. She's not here to monitor his eating habits, he's not a child.

He closes a folder with a groan of frustration and finally turns around to face her. He freezes in mid-motion. His eyes narrow over her shape, a flash of something strange in them.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Skye asks because he's looking at her weird. If she didn't know better – but she does know better, that's the thing.

He frowns. "That dress?"

She looks down at herself. Of all the things she expected to be talking about with Coulson today her sartorial choices were not on that list. The faint beginning of dark circles around his eyes was on that list, but not her red dress.

"Oh yeah. I haven't worn it in some time. Found it in a box, in one piece even after the whole HYDRA-shooting-at-our-plane episode if you can believe it. No bullet holes."

Coulson stares at her for a moment, an expression she has never seen before (something strange in itself, she thought she knew his face pretty well by now), like he wants to say more on the subject of her clothes but he looks away and back to his files.

Now that he is not looking Skye flattens her palms against the red fabric, making sure it looks straight and good on her. For a moment when she put it on this morning she had felt like a different person, because the Skye who last wore this dress is not the Skye standing here right now.

"Did you need something?" Coulson asks over his shoulder.

"Just checking up on the boss. You've been kind of holed up here all morning."

"I said I was sorry about lunch."

" _And_ breakfast." So maybe she is monitoring his eating habits a bit.

"Busy," he mutters.

"That I can see."

She sits on one of the desks pushed against the wall, watching Coulson check the same folder twice in a row, he is in need of some actual concentration.

"So, any luck with the file?" she asks.

"What do you think?" he says, gesturing towards a messy pile of documents spread all over the big table in the middle of the room.

Going back to analogue is sucky, she knows. Most electronic records had been tampered by HYDRA over the years and can't be trusted but they were lucky (if that's the word) to get their hands on a treasure trove of old physical files recovered from a Washington basement. HYDRA is done for, after Garrett, but there's still the matter of its children, and its side operations. 

"You could get help. I could help."

"I'm okay like this."

"You don't have to do all this stuff alone, you know that," she says. She has told him before, but maybe more subtly than this.

"Don't start," he tells her gently.

"It's not starting. More like an ongoing process thing."

"I know, Skye, _I know_. If you could, maybe, give me some space."

"And if you could just find that file and..." And stop acting weird.

"I'm trying, Skye."

For a supposedly quiet man Coulson is very short-tempered, Skye reflects. Although she never really bought the official line about him being a quiet man, either.

"Or you could – stop trying so hard. And give it a rest. You missed lunch with us. And it's not the first time."

He turns around, finally listening and following what she is saying. His mouth starts to open to say something but then it closes, his eyes darting over Skye in a really unexpected fashion. Yes, unexpected is the word. Well, one of the words, anyway. Wait, Skye thinks, what is _happening_ here?

Because he is doing that again, the weird expression on his face. This time he even tries to hide it, blatantly, and that's a dead giveaway.

And this time she follows his gaze when he makes that funny face and – 

Holy shit, was he looking at her legs?

"Oh my god were you looking at my legs?" she blurts out because really, this might be the most incredible, greatest, scariest thing to ever happen, how could she not say anything. Apparently she _didn't_ know better.

Coulson shuts down, panics quietly, panics anyway, and puts on an affronted face.

"What? Skye. No. _No_."

"You are so busted."

"Skye, this is not funny."

"It's definitely a lot of things but no, funny is not the first that comes to mind. Coulson, come clean, you were looking at my legs."

"And I'm telling you, Skye, I wasn't."

_Sure, repeating my name a lot will make the crap you're saying true_. Coulson in total meltdown. It would be hilarious if it weren't for the fact that it isn't. She fixes him a hard stare. Okay, she tries to calm herself down. She flattens the palms of her hands against the table.

"I didn't think I'd ever have to say this _to you_ but – sir, you need to work on your poker face."

He leaves the folder he is still holding in his hand on the table, letting out an exasperated sound. Finally able to meet Skye's eyes now he is trying for _stern_. "I don't know what you think is going on here..."

"I'd very much like to know what's going on here," she says.

"Nothing, Nothing is going on," he tells her, sounding so unconvinced himself that for a moment Skye almost pities him and leaves him alone.

"Come here," she says instead.

"Skye."

"Hey, you are my boss and you were definitely for sure looking at my legs. So you sort of owe me. You owe me walking like a dozen steps across the room so I can talk to you face to face."

Skye knows some time ago she wouldn't have been able to talk to him like this, but there's already too much trust and familiarity here for a word or a tone of voice to wound them. She swings her legs in the air a bit, childishly, and Coulson gets _distracted_ and if this was a test he totally failed it and Skye couldn't be more excited about the discovery. He looks like he realizes it himself and he makes a growly noise, so low Skye can let him pretend she doesn't hear it.

He starts walking towards her.

When he stops there's still a safe distance between them. For some reason all Skye can think is _not close enough_ like that's even a new thing.

"Closer." It escapes her lips before she can reflect on what she means, what it means.

She sees Coulson looking at her legs again, looking at her knee like he really, really wants to come closer and touch her. It makes her stomach feel warm and empty at the same time.

"Come on, Coulson. I don't bite."

It's sort of a suprise when he does as he is told and Skye takes a deep breath. When she lets it go he is definitely _closer_.

He gives Skye an apologetic little smile. He really doesn't need to do that. 

Because okay, if he is being unprofessional Skye can't claim absolute innocence here, and he deserves to know that.

"It's okay, actually. I look at you like that," she tells him; it shouldn't be a revelation but maybe to him he is. "Only like, _all the time_. You just don't notice. Or you don't want to notice. I don't know which one."

He doesn't reply but he reaches his hand, very slowly, as if he wanted Skye to somehow stop him, and presses his fingers to her leg. She can hear him swallow when he brushes his thumb over her knee. She freezes – not because the touch is in any way unwelcome but because of the sheer amazingness of the situation. The air in the room turns from stuffy to _charged_.

Skye could do it, she could just get what she wants from this moment and Coulson wouldn't say " _no_ ". But that seems too small a prize. She has to tell him.

"Coulson."

He looks up, eyes taking an extra second to focus on her.

"What?"

"If you are just _looking_ , you have to tell me, you have to," she says. "Because I'm not just looking. And I couldn't settle for anything less than what I want. I mean, I can. I have, in the past, many times. But not with you."

"You're sure?" he asks, voice all flat and unfamiliar.

She nods.

Coulson nods.

"Okay," he says, which would mean nothing if it weren't for the fact that his hand is sliding further up Skye's leg, until it disappears under her dress.

His lips part slightly without a noise and he's watching her face and Skye can't break eye contact.

His hand is cold pressed against the inside of her thigh, slipping up the length of her leg until there's no more up. Her thighs open around his hand.

His fingertips stroke against her, light and very intentional, and she bites her lip and lets out a tiny whimper-like sound. The noise seems to startle Coulson and he looks back up at her. His eyes flash, suddenly beautiful and younger with desire, and Skye feels her body tingle like she has won a prize or something.

"Skye?" His voice is so raw.

She leans into him and presses her mouth, gently, against his, not even thinking how weird it is that they haven't kissed until this moment. She kisses him softly, glad Coulson just lets her rather than kiss her back, because she is trying to tell him something here. Everything has happened too suddenly, but that doesn't mean she has doubts. She slips her tongue between his lips and Coulson shuts his eyes closed, his hand flat against her, twisting into her even through the fabric of her underwear, feeling how much she wants him.

He pulls away, eyes wide. 

"God, Skye, you're–" Chest heaving and acting as if it's a huge freaking surprise. 

"Well, yeah," she says, matter-of-factly, kissing him again. This time Coulson kisses back, like he thinks it's something she deserves, something he wants her to have. He glances down between their bodies, looking as stunned by the whole thing as she feels.

He is caressing her lightly, seemingly happy to just press his fingers against welcoming warmth but Skye needs so much more than a quiet, tender moment. She doesn't think Coulson's being a tease (not with that expression on his face, mesmerized by his own incomprehensible gestures), he's just really caught up in it all. It's nice and slow and she wants a lot of nice and slow in the future but the future is not now.

"Coulson, don't just –"

"Phil."

"What?"

He looks up, narrowing his eyes at her, hesitating, fearful of some sort of rejection.

" _Phil_?"

Skye nods. Anything to get him to speed things up. "Yeah all right."

Weird moment to be negotiating this particular milestone. Her heart hurts just thinking about its meaning. She kisses him. She kisses _Phil_ , cupping his face in her hands and drawing her thumb along the firm line of his jaw. It's different from kissing Coulson, she thinks, but she likes it either way.

He pushes her underwear to one side and slides a finger into her, slowly and confidently, and Skye has to brace herself on the edges of the desk and concentrate on evening out her heartbeat and concentrate on _not_ coming right there and then because, yeah.

He is breathing hard and his eyes are big and fixed on her face, like her face is the answer to some very important question he hasn't been able to find until just now. Skye likes that gaze, how it feels on her skin. His other hand moves to rest on the back of her neck, holding her to him when it looks like Skye can no longer hold herself. She rests her lips on the collar of his shirt, smelling paper and dust and aftershave.

He pushes a second finger into her and that's it.

When she comes, gasping wet breath into his neck while he mutters bits of encouraging words, Skye forgets and calls him _Coulson_ like usual.

She recovers almost instantly because that was nowhere near _enough_ for her and she pulls him by the shoulders and moves him until he is betwen her legs and even closer than before. And closer to _enough_ , but not there yet.

Coulson grabs her head and kisses her, kisses her wonderfully hard and and deep and without a fucking doubt, and Skye can smell herself on his hands and can feel her heartbeat replicated and thrown back at her when she presses her body against his chest. She feels his hard-on against her thigh and suddenly she has a clear idea of what might be _enough_. He kisses her like he means to drown them both.

Skye tugs at his shirt, pulling it from under the waistline of his pants and he is letting her and _this is happening_. This is totally and completely happening because in turn Coulson pushes her dress up, the damn wonderful dress, until it pools around her waist. His fingers never falter as his tongue licks a strip along her neck, one hand travelling down to clasp her leg right below her hip, sort of trying to hold her in place.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this in here," he says, like he isn't the one who pushed her dress up and got his hand between her legs in the first place. He says it but in a kind of dream-like voice that sounds like he's thinking about something else.

"It's the Records Room, Coulson. No one is going to come knocking. But if you want to stop..."

His grip on her leg tightens, fingers digging into flesh.

"No, I _don't_."

She is not oblivious, there must be something not quite right with Coulson if he is risking doing something so impulsive – and she knows there is, has been since he because Director Coulson and they set base in this place; if he knows what it is he doesn't talk about it, doesn't let it show. But he looks like he needs this right now, and truth be told, so does she. They'll talk later. They'll do a lot of things later. Talking is not a priority to her right now but sure, later it probably will.

She lifts herself on the desk until she can shove her underwear down to her knees, with some struggle. Coulson helps her, she watches him pull it down her legs the rest of the way, sliding if off her boots. He's stepped aside to do that and when he's finished Skye grabs his tie and brings him back to her and between her thighs.

"Is it okay? Like this?" he gestures, meaning clear, and even when his kind eyes are darkened with pressing lust Coulson is Mr Safety First. Very grown up of him.

"Please," she replies, because she's a grown up too. "I've been taking care of myself since I was sixteen."

His brow looks worried for a moment but then he nods slightly, deciding to trust her on this. Skye appreciates that – if he really wants to know she can tell him all about her teenage years some other day.

It goes really fast after that. She tries to look down at what she's doing while she unbuckles his belt and unzips him but Coulson is kissing her again, kissing her jaw, her neck and she closes her eyes because _his mouth_ and she never imagined they would ever do something like this, and of course not today of all days and she is totally unprepared for what it actually feels like. She stops looking, starts just feeling, touching, and then she's wrapping her hand around him to guide him as he curls his fingers around the back of her knee to pull her halfway off the desk and it has been long enough that Skye has almost forgotten what the actual moment of it feels like, except – yeah, it's never been quite this way before with anyone else. Variations, but not this. Not Coulson.

And Coulson himself lets out a loud, open, _surprised_ moan against her neck, like he also had forgotten what this feels like.

She grabs his arm and for a moment as he starts moving into her and she thinks this is not technically possible, because Skye's never had sex on a desk before and it's the sort of thing that looks great in movies but how do you balance and how do you get enough of an angle – but then Coulson puts his arm around her lower back to lift her like a trick and her legs are wrapped so tight around his waist that it suddenly feels very, _very_ possible.

It's slow, maddeningly slow, the opposite of what this situation should be like – he's obviously not looking for a quickie in the Records Room even though what they are doing is, technically, just that.

Every time he thrusts into her he pauses afterwards, long enough that she starts to believe the next thrust will never come, and it drives her insane, and it makes her look into his eyes with such intensity, trying to predict when he will start moving again; time seems to stretch weirdly like that, it's sharp and confusing, and Skye can't tell the difference between how his cock feels inside her or the sound of both their heartbeats or the brush of his lips across her mouth every time he bucks his hips, it's all a jumble of sensation and as he starts pickiing up the rhythm ( _thank god_ ) she can feel herself building to that feeling of almost being unable to bear it, again.

She is saying something, not sure what: something between _come on_ and _please_. She wants faster than this and she wants exactly like it was before at the same time.

He is saying something against her ear: she doesn't think she has ever heard Coulson swear before. She didn't know she'd like it this much.

When it's over – and it's over too soon, but also she feels like she has spent years with him inside this room – they both have trouble peeling their bodies off each other, despite all the clothes. Coulson is looking at her face with great concentration, panting, while he holds her elbow in his hand. When it's over she still doesn't unwrap her legs, keeping him with her while he rocks her and strokes his hands up and down her back, while she kisses him slowly, swallowing every one of his heartbeats.

"We need to talk," Coulson says afterwards while they try to clean up the mess a bit.

"Wow, that was fast." She's a bit worried he might be regretting it already. She's barely back in her underwear.

"You've been keeping things from me," he says.

So it's not about this. That's better, she decides. But either way he has some nerve. She crosses her arms. "I don't think Mr Pot should take that attitude with Miss Kettle."

"Is it about the file we found, the one Garrett had on you?" His voice is soft now.

"Yes," she admits. She knew this conversation was coming at some point. "And yes, I've been doing some digging on my own. And no, I shouldn't have kept it from you, but it wasn't forever, just for a bit. Because you have been keeping things from me too."

"Fair enough. That's why I said _we_ needed to talk. It wasn't meant to be a one-sided thing."

Skye nods. "Okay, so we'll talk, but like in _three days_."

His lips curl upwards. He is buttoning the cuffs of his shirt, considering her words.

"Three days?" He is either very much in sync with her or his mind is really dirty because he sounds like he gets what she means immediately.

"I calculate that's how long we'll need to get all the distractions out of the way first," she says, arching one eyebrow in what she hopes is a suggestive manner, casually running her fingers along the length of his tie. She is not being very subtle there. Oh she knows they have work and _teammates_ and a million other obstacles right before them but Skye doesn't care, she is going to lock herself in a room with this guy and find out what other tricks he knows. There hasn't even been any nakedness yet. There are so many things they should do to each other and never enough time. Skye would like the nakedness sooner rather than later.

Coulson sighs, looking down at the hem of her dress and touching his fingertips to the fabric very briefly, saying: "That was too impulsive of me."

"No it wasn't," she shakes her head. "I just – I should have worn this dress again ages ago."

"Yes, you should have," he suddenly agrees. She gives him a questioning look. He curls his fingers around her hand in reply. "I don't want to waste more time, Skye. Who knows how much of it any of us has?"

There's an edge to his voice. She likes it and she doesn't.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks him.

"I am now."

She smiles. She squeezes his hand. His fingers are warm pressed against her palm.

"So, boss. How do the kids put it these days?" Skye asks. " _Your room or mine_?"

"Your room is nicer," he says, softly, with just that hint of longing that makes Skye want to punch anyone who even thinks about hurting this man.

"Yours is bigger," she counters with a sly smile.

No further argument from him. Coulson looks happy to follow her lead in this. He looks happy. Still tired but definitely looking better than when she walked in the room. He grabs his jacket.

"I'm hungry," he tells her.

She grins. "Good. That's good."

They stop by the kitchen first, hand in hand, not bothering to hide from anyone.


End file.
